That day at the HSD centre, the children were given the freedom to play however they wanted.                   No instructions. No competition. Just the simple joy of being a child.

Some chose to draw. Others built small houses out of cardboard. But Ishimwe and his friends made a different choice. They picked up some old, worn out tyres lying around in the yard and started pushing them, running behind them, laughing with all their hearts.

Watching them, I was suddenly taken back to my own childhood. We used to do the same thing: No fancy toys, No video games, Just an old tyre, a stick, a little imagination, and we would spend hours running, chasing each other, and inventing our own rules.

What these children do not know is that they are playing exactly the way we played twenty years ago, thousands of kilometres away from here. The game has not changed. Childhood has not changed either.

In Kakuma Refugee Camp, where resources are scarce and life is hard for many families, children still find ways to create joy out of almost nothing. A discarded tyre becomes a racing car. A dusty path becomes a racetrack. Their laughter fills the air, and for a moment, the hardships of camp life fade away. Watching Ishimwe and his friends run and shout with pure delight reminded me that, no matter where a child grows up, the language of play is universal. It connects generations across continents and decades.

                              I took out my phone and captured these moments. Not for the perfect lighting or composition, but for the truth they tell. These photos show refugee children who, despite everything, find ways to have fun with whatever they have around them.

In many parts of the world, children have rooms full of expensive toys. Here in Kakuma, a broken tyre is a treasure. And honestly, watching them play, I am not sure which children are happier. There is something powerful about seeing kids turn something useless into a source of endless joy. It is creativity born out of necessity, but also out of pure imagination.

These images matter because they show resilience. They show that even in a refugee camp, childhood survives. Children still laugh, still run, still invent games. They do not wait for perfect conditions to be happy. They create happiness with what is available. That is a lesson for all of us. Ishimwe and his friends are not waiting for better days to live. They are living now. And they are teaching us that happiness is not about what you have, but about what you make of what you have.

Ishimwe and his friends reminded me of something essential: happiness does not depend on what you own, but on what you create with what you have.

I am proud to share these photos. They are not just beautiful. They are real. They speak of resilience, imagination, and childhood, pure and simple.

Thank you to the children for reminding us adults where we come from.

Human Shine Dreams: Building Bridges, Healing Hearts.